Christmas Tree Farm
by XxxAnimaniacxxX
Summary: Kendall finds himself stranded in New York for Christmas, when his roommate invites him to his family's farm.


**I decided to write something quick and simple for Christmas. I initially wasn't going to write anything, but I got a bit inspired and I had to have my fill of a little Xmas romance. It's the gayest holiday, after all. Enjoy!**

"I know, Mom. I know."

Kendall threw himself back on the couch, releasing the air from his lungs with a long sigh, phone pressed to his chest. He could still hear his mother fretting on the other end, lamenting about how the holidays had been ruined for the both of them, but especially him. He lifted the phone to his ear again and lay in silence, waiting for her to finish.

As soon as she drew a breath, he cut in with, "Really, Mom, I'm fine. Honestly." He pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling a terrible headache starting to grow on him. "I'll see if I can get another flight after Christmas. As soon as the airport starts taking in flights again."

Being Minnesota-born, Kendall was basically born and raised among snowdrifts, wearing beanie hats and scarves and gloves far too big for him. He'd always loved winter; there was something beautifully pure and clean about snowstorms. Until they barred anyone from flying home for the holidays. New York had snow too; not quite the same level, not quite as intense. Which was why he'd found it so easy to adapt to his new life. He loved New York. But even now, the prospect of being stuck there for Christmas did send somewhat of a knife through his chest. He hadn't seen his mom or his sister since August, and it would have been nice. But there was nothing to be done.

"_Please try, sweetie. We have to see you before the holidays are over."_

"I know." Kendall's eyes found an old damp stain on the ceiling. He stared at it, tilting his head until it looked just like a rabbit. One would think he was still a little kid, the way she babied him. That was what mothers were for, he supposed. Having his own kids wasn't exactly high on his list of priorities. "Look, I'll call you on the morning of and everything, it'll be like I'm there with you. I know it's not the same, but it's the best I can do right now."

"_Okay."_ She sighed on the other end_. "Merry Christmas, Kendall."_

"Merry Christmas, Mom. I'll call you soon. Love you." He hung up and tossed his phone onto the coffee table, finally letting out the loudest, longest groan he could manage. Typical. _Typical_. He would never have admitted it to his mother, but being without them for Christmas wasn't the worst thing in the world. He missed them, of course he did, but these things happened. Honestly, the thought of being alone was less appealing. It just seemed like he was going to have the most boring Christmas of all time. It wasn't like any of his friends would be free to make plans, would they?

The apartment door opened and his roommate stepped in, dark hair concealed under a cobalt blue beanie hat. Incidentally, one he'd borrowed. Him and Logan being different heights meant that jeans and sweatpants tended to be a no-go, but they pretty much shared their other clothes like it was nothing. From the first day they met on their grad programme, they'd clicked immediately. Even with his drooping mood, a wave and a greeting from Logan was enough to make him smile.

"Hey, dude." Logan threw his bag down on the counter, stretching and taking off his coat and hat. "What are you still doing here? You're going to miss your flight."

"What flight?" Kendall sat up. "Cancelled. All of them."

"Fuck, no." Logan walked over to the couch. "You're kidding me. What are you going to do?"

"Well, nothing." Kendall shrugged, swinging to rest his feet on the floor and laying his head back against the couch. Logan leaned over him with a forlorn expression. He laughed, even though talking about it made him feel a little lower. "There's nothing I can do. They're there, I'm here. I guess I'll order takeout. There's gotta be something open on Christmas, right? Maybe a Chinese? They're not Catholics, are they?"

"Come on, you're not doing that." Logan hopped onto the couch beside him, kicking his winter boots off and crossing his legs. He was wearing a pair of Kendall's socks – or two of his socks, mismatched as always. He was constantly losing his. Kendall kept telling him, grey and black socks got lost in the laundromat. They were too boring. And yet he never listened.

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" Kendall folded his arms. "Don't expect me to cook. I don't even like cooking when I'm happy. And a sandwich isn't exactly festive."

"Come home with me for Christmas, duh." Logan grinned, raising his arms. "It's perfect. We're all meeting at my uncle's farm in Pennsylvania. You should totally come. I'm driving down in the morning with my cousins. We've got room for one more."

"A farm?" Kendall raised his eyebrows. "You really are a hick, huh?"

"Don't be a jerk. Anyway, it's not that kind of farm. It's a Christmas tree farm."

Kendall's mouth fell open. Okay . . . that did sound kind of magical. Maybe a little bit. "A whole farm of Christmas trees? You've never mentioned your uncle has a _Christmas tree farm_."

"I mean, I don't think it was ever relevant. We gathered back in Dallas last year. We alternate. So, will you come? I think you'd love it, honestly. And my family would welcome you. They're annoying, obviously, but they're good fun. Come on. Please?"

"Jeez, this really matters to you." Kendall smiled. "But thanks. I'd love to come. If for nothing else, than to see the farm. Sounds like a dream."

"Yay! You're still packed, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Great. We leave tomorrow at 6am. We want to beat at least a little of the traffic." Logan stood up, hands on his hips. "You talking about takeout made me hungry. Chinese sound good to you?"

"God, please. The menu's on the fridge." Kendall picked up his phone and sent his mom a quick text to update her on his plans, smiling to himself. Excitement was beginning to bubble up inside him. Suddenly he felt like a kid again. He had to add Logan's gift to his suitcase, but other than that, he was good to go. "Make sure you get me egg rolls."

"I know, I know."

**~oOo~**

Kendall took the quickest, coldest shower of his adult life once his alarm went off at 5:30am. It did the job to wake him up. He waited in the doorway for Logan, dressed in his favourite grey sweater and dark jeans, winter coat thrown over his shoulder and his suitcase in hand. He'd roast in Logan's car on the six-hour drive. It was a bit battered and changing radio stations was a thing of the past, but there was nothing wrong with the heating.

"Are you sure you don't want us to drive in shifts?" Kendall asked as he followed him down to the parking garage. "it's a long trip."

"No, dude, it's fine. Camille will switch with me halfway through. You don't know the way, anyway. I can drive for three hours, no problem."

"So who is Camille, exactly?" He threw their bags into the trunk, before climbing into the passenger seat.

"My cousin. She lives downtown. Then James is coming too, he lives further out so he stayed at her place tonight. That's her brother, by the way. Then Carlos is coming, he's Camille's boyfriend. It's going to be a full car."

"That's okay with me. Thanks again, for inviting me."

Logan started the engine, reversing out of their apartment's assigned space. "No problem. I'm glad you're coming. If anything, you'll keep me sane. My family's nuts."

"Isn't everyone's?"

He laughed as he pulled out of the garage. The sky was still dark and clouded, a faint dusting of snow falling, but the lights of the city were so bright it might as well have been day time. It was never really night, in New York. That was something else he loved about it. On his days off, sleeping schedules were a foreign concept. The streets were never empty, either, never even quiet. But this early, and this close to Christmas, the traffic was bearable. He sat silent in the passenger seat, muffling a yawn and taking a sip of the coffee from the flasks they'd haphazardly made and shoved into the cupholders.

It took them twenty minutes to arrive at Camille's building, before Logan pulled in towards the curb and flicked on his hazard lights. "Do you mind ringing the bell? I can't leave the car. I'm not really supposed to park here."

"Oh, sure." Feeling slightly nervous at the thought of new faces, Kendall opened the passenger door.

"It's 413," Logan yelled out the window to him over the roar of the engine. "Thanks!"

Shivering and jogging up to the large front doors of the building, Kendall's bare hand traced along the list of apartment numbers, before he found the right buzzer and pressed it down. Not a few seconds later, and a voice rang out.

"_Hello?"_ the voice chirped. A woman; Camille.

"Uh, hi." Kendall cleared his throat. "This is Logan's friend. I don't know if he told you I was coming, but uh . . . yeah. We're here."

"_Oh, Kendall, right? We'll be right down. Here, step inside, it's freezing out."_ She hung up and the door buzzed. He pushed it open and stepped into the foyer, breath ghosting out in a cloud as he escaped the cold. A minute or so later, the elevator doors opened. A woman burst out, dark hair flying about in glossy curls as she sprinted past him, wheeling her suitcase behind her.

"Hi, Kendall!" she squealed, waving and blowing a kiss as he burst out into the street. "Thanks for waiting! I call shotgun!"

Kendall stared after her. Huh. So, that was what she'd been planning.

"Sorry about her. She would have killed you to get to that seat."

He turned back around to see Carlos and James wheeling their own cases. It was Carlos who spoke, and he thrust out his hand to shake Kendall's before saying, "Nice to meet you! I'm glad you're coming."

"Thanks, me too." With a smile, Kendall pushed the door open for him, watching him wheel his case out into the street. He looked over his shoulder to see the second guy – James – approaching with his own case. He greeted Kendall with a wide smile and held out his own hand to shake. His smile was dazzling, his whole face the embodiment of gorgeous. His hand was firm and strong, his skin soft, and Kendall felt a lump forming in his throat.

"Nice to meet you, Kendall," James said, voice low and slightly husky form sleep.

"Nice to meet you too," he managed to squeak back, a little shakier than he'd planned. He followed James out to the car, watching as he ran a hand through his sleep-rumpled hair before tossing his case into the car with one hand. Kendall would never have managed that. He tried to imagine what his arms looked like under his coat. Then James shrugged his winter coat off before hopping into the car and sliding to the middle seat, and he didn't have to imagine how his arms looked when he flexed. _Merry Christmas to me._ James looked up, and he found his face growing uncomfortably hot.

"Kendall, wake up and get in," Logan yelled. "Have some more coffee."

"Sorry, sorry." Cheeks burning, Kendall slipped in next to James, trying not to brush too much off him as he tied his seatbelt. Across the backseat, Carlos plugged his earphones in and nestled back, shutting his eyes and letting out a long sigh.

"No one talk to me," he mumbled, "I'm sleeping until we get there."

James rolled his eyes, turning to Kendall and mock-whispering, "He gets car sick. Seriously, don't talk to him."

"Noted." Logan passed a flask of coffee back to him and he took a long drink, letting out a contented sigh as they pulled out onto the street. He offered it to James, who thanked him and took a long gulp.

"Waking up early is not my thing," he declared with a chuckle. "We'll have to share this."

"That's okay with me." Kendall's gaydar needed a lot of work. Right now, he wasn't too sure what kind of vibe he was getting from James. Whatever it was, it wasn't a negative one, but even so . . . did he want to start flirting on a six-hour car journey? Besides, he was Logan's cousin. The last thing he wanted to do was rock the boat when he was basically relying on them for transport, accommodation, and hopefully food. So, he nestled back into the seat and gazed out the window as the lights of the city passed them by.

Logan and Camille chatted in the front seat at practically the top of their voices. And, miraculously, he could hear Carlos' soft snores from James' other side. He would never have been able to sleep through that. That said, he'd never been good at sleeping in cars anyway. Apparently, the first three years if his life had made travelling by car had made a living nightmare for his parents. He picked at his fingernails, as the lights of New York slowly faded behind them.

"So, where are you from?"

Kendall jumped and looked around. James held the coffee flask in his hand, watching him expectantly. Kendall found his eyes wandering down the smoothness of his cheekbones, to the faint flush in his cheeks and the curve of his bottom lip. He looked back up to meet James' hazel eyes and mumbled, "Minnesota. Shakopee."

"Oh, cool. Never been to Minnesota. When did you move to New York?"

"About two years ago. I came for a marketing job, after college. I met Logan on the grad program." He smiled. "Then we moved in together immediately. Rent and all. You have to share, and we didn't want to live with weirdos."

"Tell me about it. My first roommate was a taxidermist." James shuddered. Probably seeing Kendall's expression, he grinned and said. "But he did make really good pancakes."

Kendall snorted, covering his mouth. _Fuck my life._

"So, um." He gulped. "What do you do?"

"Oh, I work in a gym."

Of course he worked in a gym. Of _course_ he did. He probably had incredible abs on top of everything else. Kendall nodded and responded with an enthusiastic, "I don't think I've ever gone to the gym. But I've thought about it."

"You should. I've got business cards in my suitcase."

Kendall laughed. "What, you just carry those around with you?"

"Hey, I might get a new membership out of you before we come back." He gave a wink, looking out at the dark sky of the early morning. "Look's like the snow's cleared up for now, thank God."

"You think so?" Kendall looked out the window. "I like the snow. I know it's not fun to drive in, but other than that . . ."

"I don't know. It looks pretty, I guess. But I could live without it." He gave a sigh and rested his head back against the seat. "I used to want to move to LA once I graduated. Sunshine all year round sounds like the dream to me."

"Well, maybe you'll still get to do that. It's not like you're old."

"Yeah, maybe. I would still kind of like to do it. I love New York, but there's just something about the west cost."

Kendall nodded, though he himself had never felt any kind of way about the west coast. He liked the east just fine. Hell, he might have been happy just moving to Minneapolis if he hadn't been offered that position in New York. He liked the cities, but he didn't have to move far. Travel had never been incorporated into his ambitions. It was just a bonus. "I get that."

James smiled, looking more like a model every minute. "By the way, I like your sweater. It's a good colour."

Kendall touched the edge of his sleeve, cheeks growing warm in the confined space of the car. _It's just grey_, would have been his usual self-deprecating reaction, but this guy seemed like he knew enough about clothes and all things beautiful to know there was more than one shade of grey. So he smiled and replied, "Thanks. It's soft, too."

"Can I?"

Kendall lifted his arm, teeth coming down on his lip as James' large hand came down on his arm in one slow touch. "Wow, it is nice. Where'd you get it?"

"A gift, actually. From my . . ." He trailed off, suddenly remembering. _Oh, fuck, not now_. "My friend."

A lot of people would have taken one look at all the gifts their ex had bought them and thrown them away at the very least, if not throwing them into a pyre where they belonged. Kendall didn't like to be wasteful. Okay, maybe the flowers were thrown away, but he really loved that sweater. He wouldn't give Jett the satisfaction of depriving him of it. Even if he wasn't around to see him wearing it anymore.

"Ah, friend." James' expression changed to one of curiosity. "I see."

"Yeah." He swallowed, feeling like he should clarify the situation. "We're not friends anymore."

"Oh, I'm sorry." He didn't sound sorry in the least, and Kendall was glad of that. He wasn't sorry either, and he said as much. James laughed, and they carried on like nothing had happened.

**~oOo~**

Kendall and Jett had dated for a good six, seven months. The longest relationship he'd ever had by far. He'd never considered himself a cold or standoffish person. He'd just never really clicked with anyone, was all. But when he met Jett, he realised then that he'd been wrong. He was cold. He was cold until Jett touched him, and his skin burst in rays of summer sunshine, of birdsong and long nights by a fireplace and warm blankets on cold nights. He got it then; he understood what all those love songs he enjoyed so much were actually talking about. Finally, they were saying something he could actually resonate with, and not just pretend to.

When they broke up, he then understood all those songs lying on the opposite side of the spectrum. Of broken hearts, lost loves, feeling so lonely that sleep was impossible, but staying awake was even worse. If this was what love did to someone, he didn't want it anymore. He wanted to be cold again. He wanted to scrub the sunshine from his skin.

"_Just give me one more chance,"_ Jett had pleaded, begged, fallen to his knees before him. He looked pathetic, on his knees. It made him want to cry even harder, just to see him so pitiful. Not only to know that he was causing it, but that there was nothing he could do to stop it. There was nothing more to be done.

"_Go away. It's over."_ And maybe he was pathetic too._ "I never want to see you again."_

"Hmm?"

Kendall opened his eyes and blinked slowly. The white grey sky of the east coast winter came into view, and he sat up, face turning hot when he realised what had happened.

"You were dreaming," James said softly, as Kendall leaned up form where he'd fallen asleep against his shoulder. "You mumbled. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Kendall rubbed his eyes. "Sorry, for, um . . . that."

"I didn't mind." He held out the flask. "There's a little bit left, though I'm not sure how warm it is. We're almost there."

"Really?" Kendall looked out the window. Pennsylvania, when covered with a blanket of snow, didn't look to different from Minnesota. He had no idea where they were.

"Yeah, about fifteen minutes or so." James grinned. "Logan mentioned you were excited to see the farm."

"I wouldn't say excited, per se." Kendall cleared his throat, folding his arms. "I was interested."

A chuckle. He really was gorgeous. "Well, you'll know it when you see it."

Kendall stared out the window, breath steaming against the glass as he watched the fields pass them by in a flurry of clean white. Carlos grumbled and sighed as he finally woke, and Logan and Camille's eager chatter in the front had changed to a couple of soft sentences every now and then. Everyone was eager to get out of the car.

Not long after, Camille took a right turn and headed down a slightly narrow road, and as he stared, he caught sight of the trees looming up on the horizon. Christmas trees, hundreds of them, dusted with snow like icing sugar. The farmhouse loomed up behind what looked like the front office. Light shone from the windows, drawing him in. It was like a dollhouse. He wanted to step inside this dream world, and just forget everything for a while. By this time, back home, his mother would have been pestering him about his love life and his sister would have been trying to steal the mince pies form his plate.

"Like it?" James asked, leaning over. His breath ghosted against Kendall's neck, and though he felt a pleasant shiver pass through him, his attention was more focused on the tree farm. He let out a little laugh.

"What's funny?"

"It's cheesy. I just thought . . ." Kendall took a breath, eyes still out the window so James wouldn't see his embarrassment. "It looks like a snow globe."

Huh." Finally daring to look, he saw James looking out the window with that scorn from before absent from his face. "Yeah, I guess it does. It's pretty."

Kendall smiled. Their eyes locked, and he wanted to blurt something out. Something idiotic, just to break the tension, just to drive them apart again because, though he'd been eager at the journey's start, he wasn't so sure he could handle being this close to him anymore.

"We're here!" Camille screeched as she parked outside the house, doing his job for him. He turned away and opened the door, getting out and grunting at the stretch in his legs as he stood. He stretched his whole body, arms up towards the winter sky as he took a deep breath of fresh air, snowflakes touching his cheeks with their soft kisses.

At last, he turned to help Logan get the luggage out of the trunk, while Camille darted to the door and rang the doorbell. Snow crunched beneath their feet as they followed her up to the stoop. The door opened and a woman with Logan's dimples and dark hair opened it up, opening her arms wide to them. "You're here! Finally."

"Hey, Mom," Logan said with a grin, as they hauled the luggage inside. "They all in the kitchen?"

"We were just icing cookies. Get your stuff upstairs and we'll get you all settled in. This must be Kendall!"

She charged at him and wrapped him in a tight hug, swaying back and forth. "It's so nice to meet you! We're so happy to have you here."

"Thank you," Kendall replied breathlessly when he finally escaped her grip. "Thanks for having me. I really appreciate it."

"Not at all, dear. Get your stuff settled and come and meet everyone!"

"I'll show you where we're staying," James offered, making a head start up the stairs. "Follow me."

Kendall followed him up the stairs, eyeing the pictures that lined the delicate flowered wallpaper. Baby pictures by the dozen, then they slowly led into pre-school, elementary, middle. It wasn't until around then, as they reached the top of the stairs and the upstairs hallway, that he recognised the figures and slowed to a stop.

"This is your house?" he asked, as James walked down the hall. "I guess I should have realised, but Logan never said. I know he's got a big family."

"Yeah, it's my dad's farm. Of course, we had family staying here all the time. My room's here." He opened the door, and, at his beckoning, Kendall walked inside.

The room was wide and spacious, the large window showing the perfect picturesque scene of the Christmas tree farm out over the horizon. The room had clearly been decorated and re-decorated over the years as James grew up, but even now, there weren't many articles around to signify a teenage boy had lived in it. It felt more like a guest room with just a touch of boyish style. Two single beds lined two of the walls, with a pull-out camp bed in the middle of the floor.

"Usually, it's just me and Logan in here," James explained. "But we've got a couple of spare things lying around for extra guests." He flipped Kendall's bag and placed it on one of the beds, the bed patterned with daisies and blue spots. "This is my bed. You take it, you're the guest."

"What? No way, the camp bed is obviously for me, I'm the spare."

"You're the guest. I'll take the camp bed." James put his case down on the camp bed firmly. "Don't try to argue. I insist."

"You're way too nice for your own good."

"Am I?" James grinned. "Glad to hear it. Come on, let's go brave the masses. Be prepared, they're a little loud."

James and Logan's family were indeed loud. Logan's little sister Presley gave him a hug strong enough to rival that of her mother, while his father clapped him on the shoulder so hard he was almost knocked off his feet. James' parents barged in to greet him before he had room to breathe, his mother shoving a snowman cookie into his hand and ruffling his hair all about, like the cold wind outside hadn't done that already. By the time the dust had settled and they went back to plating up their cookies, he felt ready for another nap.

"They're a lot," Logan said by way of explanation. "Come sit by the fire and take a break."

"Camille, when you're going, will you bring back more popcorn?" Carlos called, face appearing form a kitchen cabinet. "It's all gone."

"Damn, I forgot. There's always something." James' mother – he heard her husband call her Brooke – shook her head, hands on her hips. "Add popcorn to the list, sweetie."

"No problem, Mom." Camille scribbled down on her notepad, shoving it into her coat pocket. "Anyone want to tag along?"

"I'll go," James said, getting up and wrapping his scarf back around his neck. Kendall didn't mind admitting to himself he was sorry to see him leave. But a last-minute trip to the store didn't sound like his idea of fun, even with a guy as cute as him.

He followed Logan into the living room and sat cross-legged by the fire, while he placed a plate of cookies between them and poured out two cups of hot tea.

"Are you glad you came?" Logan asked, dipping a freshly iced cookie into his mug. Kendall watched as a glob of glittery white icing fell into the tea. "I know it's a lot. You're probably used to a quieter Christmas, huh?"

"Yeah, just my mom and my sister." Kendall took a sip of tea and nibbled on the edge of the snowman's hat. "I'm not used to this much noise. But these cookies are amazing."

"James' mom's recipe. I think the secret is extra vanilla, but she'll never actually tell me." He shoved another cookie whole into his mouth, as Presley walked in and turned on the TV, slipping a DVD into the player, undoubtedly something Christmas-themed. He was fine with that. He tended not to have a quota when it came to cheesy movies. They were his favourite kind. He and Jett used to have a movie nights once a week, watching as many as they could until they fell asleep. He sighed and finished the rest of his cookie in one bite, before reaching for another. Good thing the holidays were the perfect time for binge-eating.

After a time, Kendall got sucked into the holiday movie playing on the TV, even if he found himself easily distracted by various little editing mistakes and forgetting the actual plot. The best way to watch any bad movie, in his humble opinion. The plate of cookies between them had long since been polished off, and the warmth of the living room had banished the chill from his bones. However, by the time the movie ended, he found his eyes were starting to droop. A glance outside the window at the dimming sky told him it had to be late afternoon by now. He stifled a yawn.

"I'm going to go out for a quick walk around, if you want to come?" Kendall asked. "I need to stretch my legs." Logan nodded and got up. The two slipped into their winter boots and wrapped up tight in their winter coats.

As they stepped out the back door, Logan led him through the open yard and through the gate towards the open fields of Christmas trees. Kendall walked in the dimming evening light with his mouth half open, breath clouding before him as he eyed the Diamond farm's inventory. "It's so peaceful here."

"That's because everyone else is inside," Logan said with a laugh. "I do like walking out here, though. Takes me back to when I was a kid, and we used to run around and play tag between the trees. Ponce time, we started carving our names onto the trees and keeping scores, Uncle Shane got so mad at us. So, no more carvings."

"Same thing happened to me, except I broke the bathroom window." He walked with his hands deep in his pockets. The crisp air stung his nose and made his eyes water, but it made him feel so fresh he didn't mind too much. "Grounded for two weeks. If we didn't have a friend who could fix it at a discount, it probably would have been more."

Logan laughed and passed under one of the larger firs, looking up through the dark green needles and slim branches, hand resting against the trunk. "So, um . . . how are you doing?"

"Huh?" Kendall stood next to him. "What do you mean? I told you, I'm glad I came. I'll see them in January."

"No, not that." Logan stepped away from the tree, looking suddenly sheepish. "You know . . . with the holidays coming around, I . . ."

"What?" Kendall stared at him. "Spit it out."

Logan sighed. "Look, I know you and Jett were pretty serious. I know you were planning on doing something special for the holidays, and everything . . . I just wondered if you were okay, with everything. It's a family, time, you know? A loving time. And you were so upset when you guys broke up, I just wanted to ask you how you were."

"Oh." Kendall turned away and took off again through the snow, legs and feet growing a little numb form the cold. "Yeah, I'm doing okay."

From the silence behind him, he could tell Logan didn't quite believe him. He wasn't suite sure he believed himself. But still he said, "I'm not doing the best, but I am okay. I promise. And it'll get better with time. It's not even that it's Christmas. I don't even care about that. I guess the wound is just still fresh."

"I understand. I'm glad you're doing better"

"I really am. Doing better." Kendall turned back to smile at him. The breeze rocked him, and he shivered slightly. "Should we start heading back? It's getting colder."

"Yeah, let's do that." Logan grinned. "Listen, I don't want to be pushy, but I can set you up with someone when we get back to New York. I know a lot of great guys who are into guys. I bet a lot of them would think you're cute. In fact, there's one who saw your picture on my phone before and he said—"

"Logan." Kendall laughed. "Don't jump through hoops for me. We'll see when we get back, okay? I might want a break from dating for a while."

"Who says you have to date them?" Logan smirked and turned around, striding away ahead of him. "Bodies are bodies, flesh is flesh. A dick is a dick—"

Kendall plucked up a handful of snow and shoved it down the back of Logan's neck, before taking off in a run. Logan shrieked and chased after him, but Kendall was laughing too hard to really get away. The clump of snow smacked onto the top of his head was inevitable, and they found themselves stumbling along down the slope to the backyard, half slipping and sliding out of each other's arms. Kendall slipped and landed on his backside by the back door, practically weeping with laughter.

Logan bent down and helped him up, trembling with giggles. "I guess I deserved that."

"You did." Kendall struggled to his feet, dusting the snow from his backside and taking a deep breath. "But I appreciate the thought. Thanks. Show me a catalogue when we get back and I'll think about it."

"I will." Kendall leaned back against the wall as Logan went to open the back door. "I'm going back in, aren't you coming?"

"I'll be there in a minute." He shut his eyes and rested his head back against the red brick. "You go ahead without me."

"Okay. Don't stay out too long." The back door clicked shut behind him, and Kendall was left out in the cold. But he didn't mind. The place was so peaceful; in the dim twilight, it felt like he was in his own quiet little world.

Then the back door opened again and he looked up. "Oh. Hi. You're back."

"Hey." James stepped out, lighter clicking in his hand as he lit a cigarette. "What are you doing out here?"

"Just taking a minute to look at everything. It's so beautiful here." He smiled.

"Want one?" James asked, offering the box. "Don't judge me, I only smoke when I'm visiting. Dad smokes like a chimney."

"I don't judge, but no thanks. I'm good." Kendall stuck his hands in his pocket and watched James stick the cigarette between his lips, tip lighting vivid orange as he took a puff, before blowing it out soft between his lips. For once, the smell didn't bother him.

"Do you visit home often?"

"Maybe not as much as I should. Just special occasions. What about you?"

"Not much. It's a lot farther than Pennsylvania, you know. And I'm not the biggest fan of flying."

"Tell me about it. I can't take the dry air, it ruins my skin."

"I was thinking of the body odour, but that too." Kendall looked back out at the farm with a long sigh, taking in the silence. "I feel sometimes like I should go back more, but . . . I don't know."

"I get it. I feel hat way too. Sometimes, I just get a bit bored of this place too. It's not very exciting."

"It's gorgeous, though. It's picturesque." He smiled. "You probably get sick of hearing that."

"No, I don't. It's just hard for me to see. I grew up here, you know?" James kicked up a little cloud of snow, cigarette clutched in hand. "I guess I got used to seeing it all times of the year. It looks to me like any other place. To be honest, I got sick of seeing it at Christmas."

"I guess I understand that."

"It's funny." He smiled. "I've never really seen it through fresh eyes. Even Logan's seen it enough times to not really get too excited about it anymore, but you . . ."

Kendall's cheeks flushed red to match his numbing nose, and he looked down, scuffing his foot and mumbling. "You make me sound like a little kid."

"Sorry. I didn't mean it that way. But it is, you know . . . it's cute." Clearing his throat, James turned to look back at the house. "We should head back in. My mom is going to freak out if we're not there to help with the cocoa."

"Cocoa?" Kendall straightened up. "I like cocoa."

"Everyone does. Come on." He walked back and opened up the back door, the warmth of the house wafting out towards them. "After you."

Kendall hopped up the step and back into the house, lingering in the back room for a moment as he hung his scarf back up. His breath shuddered in his chest when he felt James' big hands on his shoulders, helping him shrug out of his coat and hanging it up. "You guys sure have a lot of cute traditions. It's nice." His hand brushed the back of his neck; he could almost still feel James' hands on his shoulders. _Focus, Kendall._

"Hey, all families have a routine. It's just to chill out while the dinner finishes up." James turned to smile at him again, the light of the kitchen lingering on his face, the picture of an angel for a moment. "Want to help me hand out the cocoa? My mom will love you."

He chuckled. It would be a bonus for the hosts to love him. "Okay, sure."

They walked back into the kitchen to see Brooke stirring a large saucepan that filled the rom with the rich aroma of chocolate. Kendall walked over to her and, as she reached to pick up the ladle, took it from her. "Let me do that, Mrs Diamond."

"Honey, please, it's Brooke." She was very pretty; James clearly took after her. "You're our guest, you should sit down."

"No, no, it's fine." He turned to see James setting mugs down on the counter. Their eyes met, and he found himself biting his lip inadvertently. "James and I are on the case."

"Well, okay." She bent down to open the oven, glancing inside. "Looks like the chicken's coming along nicely. I'll just go sit down in the living room, then. Thank you."

"No problem," he called after her, taking the first mug James handed him and ladling it high with hot cocoa.

They worked with a quick and steady system, James passing and taking back the mugs before topping them with piles of mini marshmallows and little squirts of canned whipped cream. James loaded the mugs onto two trays, wiping the imaginary sweat form his brow and sighing. "Phew."

"Oh, stop that." Kendall picked up the second tray. "Logan never said you were a drama queen."

James' mouth fell open in mock dismay. "I'm hurt. I'm shocked."

"Are you?"

"I am."

"I'm sorry." Cheeks aching form smiling, Kendall spun around with his tray in his hands and made a beeline for the living room. As he circled the room and emptied the tray, James came in after him and copied the action, the room echoing with thank you's and cheers of delight for a minute or two.

He turned to search for a place to seat, only to find James standing before him by the tartan loveseat with two mugs in his hands. Kendall felt then that maybe the living room was a little too warm, and he might just faint on the spot. He walked over and took the mug, mumbling his thanks as the two of them squashed together into the seat.

"Are you having fun?"

Kendall sipped his cocoa, feeling a million butterflies wild in his stomach. "Yeah. I really am."

**~oOo~**

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. They gathered around the massive table in what James' dad referred to as "the good dining room". The table stretch across the whole room, and still had a foldup picnic table tacked on at the end for Camille, Carlos and Kendall to cram themselves into. The food was spread out and passed around, and Kendall didn't think he'd ever eaten so much food in his life. When it was over, he was ready to pass out asleep again.

By the time they cleared away the dessert platters and all the empty wine glasses, the fire had started dying, the snow had thickened out in the night, and everyone had started heading off to bed. Kendall found himself standing by the fireplace to catch that last bit of warmth, when Logan walked up to him and gave him a tight hug.

"Merry Christmas, my dude," he slurred, kissing his cheek. "It's almost midnight."

"Go to bed, you're drunk." Kendall pushed Logan off him with a guff. The wine pleasantly warming him and cushioning his brain with cotton wool was enough to make him sway just slightly on the spot, but he wasn't nearly as far gone as Logan.

"No, no. I'm gonna have a cup of tea, first. Camille just made tea. Do you want tea? I'm gonna have tea."

"I'm good." Trying not to laugh too hard, he guided Logan towards the kitchen and steered him in. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

He headed up the stairs with a stretch and a long yawn. It took him a few minutes to get ready for bed in the bathroom, taking the time to take a quick breather in the silence, now that the house was lying down for the night. He headed back into James and Logan's room, flicking the lamp on and changing into his pyjamas. He moved over to the bed, throwing back the covers and sitting down just as the door opened.

"Hey." He sat up straighter, suddenly wishing he'd brought nicer pyjamas.

"Hi." James walked in, shutting the door softly behind him, one hand behind his back. "How was your night?"

"Oh, really good. I'm just tired now. It's been a long day."

"Wait until tomorrow." James stepped across the room and Kendall got up to meet him halfway, not really sure why he was doing it. He just was. He just wanted to.

"Why is your hand behind your back?" he asked. "If it's more wine, it's not me you need to worry about. Logan's the problem."

He laughed. "No. He's sobering up."

"Then what is it?"

"I know Christmas isn't technically until tomorrow, but I got you something." James moved his hands from behind his back, showing a little square box, wrapped in colourful blue paper, patterned with little silver stars.

"For me?" Kendall took the box, staring at it in awe. "When? I didn't get you anything, you should've said something . . ."

"Well, it wouldn't have been a surprise then, would it? I got it yesterday." He nodded at the box. "Go on, open it."

Kendall ripped at the corner of the paper with his thumbnail, carefully unwrapping the cardboard box and taking it out. He opened the lid and burst into laughter. His fingers wrapped around the snow globe as he gently pried it from the box, giving it a little shake and watching the flecks of fake snow and silver glitter scatter over the little farmland scene. "No way. Thank you."

"You like it?"

"I love it." He gave it another shake before the snow could settle, watching it flurry up again inside the glass. "You really shouldn't have." He put it down on the dresser beside the bed, watching the storm rest again over the barn roof, the farmhouse, the fence and Christmas trees.

"I wanted to. It's just . . . something small." Kendall looked back, eyes turning up to see James looking down at him. The room was warm, compact; he could feel the heat of James' body so close to his. Outside, the winter's night twinkled with Christmas lights and the moon and stars, and he wanted to savour this little moment he had now, before he went back to the bustle of New York, before he went back to work and his worst memories and the way he rushed into things headlong, then felt every burnt of that pain after. He never lost that part of himself, wherever he went.

He reached out and touched James' shoulders, rising on his toes just slightly as he leaned forward. James met him halfway, hands coming to clasp firm around his waist as, finally, their lips met. Kendall wrapped his arms tight around James' neck, running his hands through soft hair, letting his toes scuff the carpet as James moved them to the bed, sat him down, kissed him harder, slower, let his lips trail down his neck.

The door opened and the bright light of the hall beamed in on top of them. Kendall squinted, blushed, pulled away when he saw Logan at the door.

"Dudes." Logan's eyes grew wide. "Seriously?"

"Logan, uh . . ." Kendall cleared his throat, the trembling setting in already. "Listen—"

"Come on, guys." He pointed across the room. "That's James' bed. Not on my bed, please."

Kendall looked down, suddenly recognising the different bedspreads. "Oh."

"I'd just appreciate it is all," Logan said with a shrug, turning to close the door. "Don't let me interrupt." And with a wink, the door shut again, and Kendall was left red-faced but almost faint with relief, hand clasped in James'.

James chuckled at his expression, pressing his lips to his cheek, their skin grazing so soft and lovely. "We should probably move over there."

"Yeah. Since he's being so cool about it."

"Exactly." James pecked his lips. "I'm really glad you came. Merry Christmas, Kendall."

Kendall smiled, standing up and tugging James after him, feeling bolder and brighter and better than he had in quite some time. Staying in this little snow globe world, even once, was enough for him. "I'm glad, too. Merry Christmas."


End file.
